Dear Asma,

As much as my fingers wish to spill words across the page, they hesitate, knowing they will not do justice to the shade of blue I woke up to at The Maybourne Riviera, in the picturesque town of Roquebrune-Cap-Martin. Vast, bold, and breathtaking, it leaves me with sentences that stay behind the view. Perhaps that in itself tells you how deeply I have been taken by it.

The Maybourne Riviera rises from the cliff like a sculpture of glass and stone. It is sharp, proud, and eternal, with Italy unfolding to one side and Monaco to the other. What a privileged position to eternally shine from! Inside, those edges soften; curves and ovals ripple through the interiors, everything fluid, everything flowing, as if the walls themselves are in quiet dialogue with the sea. It feels endless, just as I wished my short escape here could be, when I spoke to our common friend Shadi, who recommended this place.

My duplex suite is airy, bright, and spectacularly unstuffy. Every corner frames the shifting shades of the Riviera, as though each window were both a view outward and a mirror inward. I love places that are not only beautiful, but that ask you to think more deeply than the horizon allows. I found myself doing just that here, often from the beige calm of the room, softened by wood and light fabrics, all embraced by marble and that constantly present blue. On my terrace, a private pool became my ritual. Morning dips that felt like beginnings in themselves, followed by breakfast in the open air, high on dreams and salt-kissed light. The day would then unfold in its own miracles.

High above the glittering coastline, the Riviera’s flavours gather like friends full of life and energy — those you’d watch at another table and admire their passion, energy and strength. Jean-Georges’ abc kitchens finds a new horizon here, carrying the spirit of his New York trilogy into Mediterranean light, with menus rooted in the gardens and markets of the Côte d’Azur. A short ride away, a restaurant and an understated rocky beach club, La Môme Riviera welcomes its guests with its unmistakable mix of elegance and ease, serving sun-kissed Mediterranean dishes, familiar warmth, and music drifting lazily from day into night. As the evening deepens, Dante Aperitivo on the hotel’s top floor arrives from across the Atlantic, its playful spritzes and bittersweet classics joining the summer air between sea and sky. Together with the hotel’s own Riviera Restaurant, La Piscine by the pool, and Bar 300, dining here feels less like a series of meals and more like slipping into the rhythm of a place where every table carries a story.

And stories, as always, are best told by people. The staff bring this place alive with their warmth. Rodolphe shared with me the subtle art of sorbet, which somehow tastes frostier here. Diego spoke about sustainability with such ease that it seemed less like effort and more like instinct. Even the lemon leaves find their way into drinks at Bar 300, a small gesture, yet one that carries both imagination and care. I must tell you, everything was delicious – every sip and every bite.

Perched above the sea, the spa concept named Surrenne Riviera is less a spa than a sanctuary where time loosens its grip. Science and ritual intertwine here: therapies of light and water, facials that feel as intimate as conversation, movements guided by the rhythm of breath and tide. Studios open directly to the horizon, inviting yoga, pilates, or even a spin class on top of the cliff, carried by Mediterranean air. Stillness, too, has its home in rooms designed for renewal. More than care for the body, Surrenne offers a way of being. It is rooted in balance, carried by the sight of waves rolling endlessly below. The lightness of being becomes bearable here; something tells me even Kundera would agree.

Like every journey, this one also had its soundtrack. It was Stella’s The Race, easy and flowing, yet steady in rhythm. My friend Nicola discovered it for me just recently. A reminder, perhaps, that we can always search for that place, “far from the heavens, away from the race”, and sometimes, if we are lucky, we find it perched on a cliff above the Riviera.

“We can search for a place
Far from the heavens, away from the race
All of the plans and the promises made
Far from the heavens, away from the race.”

With love from Côte d’Azur,
Milo